Denial
by Ninth Lady
Summary: Nick Stokes used to pride himself on his emotional detachment to cases, but everything changed when Sara Sidle walked in and caused his to reevaluate what really makes a good CSI. Snickers.


**Denial**

By Ninth Lady

A/N: I wrote this for a fic challenge a while back and never posted it on here. It's Snickers (obviously), post 'Grave Danger' and no 'Living Doll' or 'Dead Doll' references. Furthermore, I wrote it before Season 8. Please read and review! Thanks.

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I was a part of a world – a world where rape, homicide, and death happen every day. No, not really. I was a detached part of this world, enshrouded in a bubble almost.

Not a fantasy world, but a world I remained detached from to maintain my integrity as a CSI. While I flirted and briefly dated women, I always ensured I never got to close, lest my world and the world that brought me a living collided.

It was comfortable in this world, that is, until Sara Sidle walked into and threw everything out the window.

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Sara's emotional attachment to cases was by CSI standards, unprofessional, and it often made her a liability as opposed to an asset. Ecklie said so often enough, and while she was not proud to admit it, I know Catherine felt that way at times.

Before Sara, I faithfully remained detached from all of my cases, even the ones that hit close to home – some closer then I would have liked to admit. The detachment, I told myself, was an essential part of what made me a good CSI. It made me an asset and necessary part of the night shift.

Then Sara came, more lively then any of us would have liked. She was dedicated, solitary, and a workaholic. She stole some of Catherine's shine, something Catherine was initially jealous about having to share.

We thought that Sara would convict Warrick, condemn him for leaving the rookie alone. At least that's what was. Grissom had faith in her abilities that she'd "get to the bottom of it."

While we had thought of Sara to be the enemy, her investigation and report proved her to be our friend – albeit a distant one. She convinced Grissom to keep Warrick on, a fact that Warrick would remind me about on the days I opened my mouth to say something bad about the brunette.

Having been invited to stay, Sara made her new residence Las Vegas, living in a location she coolly kept private, despite offers from some of the labs techs for a housewarming party.

It did not take me long to figure out that she was a very private person, with a private life, private thoughts, and even more private emotions.

Sara would relax a little around us, and while I pretended to not know why she never fully joined in on our fun, we both knew it was due to her initial time with the team. The circumstances had made it difficult for us to be welcoming to her, but it had still done irreparable damage to our relationship as a team. However unfair it was, Sara had been left hurt, and she wasn't about to reopen herself up again any time soon.

Honestly, if I knew then what I know now, I never would have treated her so coldly.

It wasn't until we started working together that I realized what a great person she was. Her humour certainly could enter dangerously dark territory, but her work ethic was certainly something to aspire towards. She was diligent, focused, and dedicated - almost as if she were secretly saving the world or something, which I once jokingly told her. In response, she scrunched her nose up in mock disgust and told me that comic books are for kids, not people in their thirties. We both laughed, and with that something began.

That something became a great working relationship and friendship. We began offering more and more to help each other out, on the job and off of it. Grissom even commented on how well we worked together. Warrick laughed at our constant flirtation.

We kept our off the job friendship secret however, not willing to risk our jobs should someone read into it the wrong way.

It was me who helped Sara pick out a new car when hers' got stolen. It was her who helped me to repaint my apartment when I decided that it reminded me of the coffin I had been buried in. It was me who bought her beer to drown her sorrows in when she discovered Hank had made her his dirty little secret. It was her that came by everyday with take out after I had been buried alive. It was me who made sure she got sunlight every so often. It was her who would let me bum a cigarette or two during a really tough shift. It was me who kept her smoking habit a secret from the rest of the lab.

The list was truly endless. During her weak moments, normally when she was somewhat inebriated or feeling very emotional, she would let her guard down and let me in a little more each time.

Sometimes, if we had had a little too much to drink, we'd both crash at my house. At first, we did nothing, just platonic sleep. This slowly turned into cuddling, then kissing, then full blown passionate sex. These instances became so frequent, that the only people who said we were not living together were Sara and I. Except of course, the lab, which could never know about us and our non-relationship.

So what if sometimes during a moment of passion, we exchanged 'I love yous'? Or if we sometimes held hands in the grocery store? Or if when the lease to her apartment ran up, she moved everything to mine? Or if because there was too much junk cluttering the apartment that we decided to move into a townhouse? Or if we both put our names down on the lease? Or if we were talking about buying our own home? Or if we were joking about making our marriage-like situation legal?

No, of course Sara and I were not in a relationship. We were just good friends, right?

We were fooling ourselves. I was fooling myself.

It was Sara who taught me that emotional involvement did not make one a bad CSI. It was Sara who taught me that cooking really was an art, an art she did not possess. It was Sara who taught me that sometimes good things come in small packages, and that those good things could turn into wonderful, life changing events. It was Sara who was there for me after my ordeal with Nigel Crane, and being in the box.

It was ironic in a way… The 24/7 Wedding man told me "She's gonna getcha." I shrugged it off, until the day Warrick told me which one of them found my location when I was trapped underground. I was surprised when Sara's name came out of his mouth. In my mind, I could hear the man's message as if it had been a prophesy. "She's gonna getcha…"

And get me, she did.

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Nick felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He looked down, smiling, even though he knew full well who it was.

"Nicky…" came the whisper in his ear, "come to bed already. Those pictures will still be there in the morning."

Nick turned around into the loving embrace of his best friend, fellow CSI, and wife.

"I'm coming darlin' just reminiscing a little."

Lips met his own for a brief, but loving kiss.

"Tell me about in bed, okay? I'd love a bedtime story anyways." She giggled a little.

Smiling down at his wife, Nick kissed her again. "Of course Sara."


End file.
